


these could have been great but then you know who did you know what

by sunnyshipboys



Category: McElroy Vlogs & Podcasts RPF
Genre: M/M, Unfinished, never going to be finished
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-16
Updated: 2017-08-16
Packaged: 2018-12-16 00:53:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11817789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunnyshipboys/pseuds/sunnyshipboys
Summary: a couple of one shots i never finished because i was in the middle of writing them when all the nick robinson stuff came to light





	1. meet cute

**Author's Note:**

> sorry to be posting this after nick's sexual harassment stuff came to light, but i need this shit out of my drafts so i can close it and never look at it again
> 
> i literally think both of these cut off mid sentence oh well
> 
> i put this on my other work, but i wanna make it clear that i'm not on nick's side in any way about the sexual harassment and that i wrote this before i knew about it
> 
> anyway i'm sorry i ever wasted time on this boy, but here's the bullshit i wrote

Griffin’s leg bounces up and down frantically under the table. He bites his lip and tries not to make it obvious that his eyes are scanning the restaurant once again. He drums his fingers on the table and comes up with more reasons that his date-to-be is late. She could be lost. She could have gotten held up grading papers. Maybe her car broke down and her cell phone was out of battery and she couldn’t contact him to tell him she would be late. Maybe she never planned on coming at all. His tapping drew the attention of another customer at the neighboring table. She pursed her lips, but said nothing.

The anxious tick in Griffin’s movements worked in stark contrast to the gentle music and candlelit atmosphere the restaurant was trying to facilitate; the sharp lines of his tense back in contrast with the flow of the drapes and the soft tablecloth. Griffin wondered when the waitstaff would be back around—if they would be back around. Truthfully, they had come by his table more times than he cared to admit and he had spent such an uncomfortable amount of time in this restaurant they had devolved to avoiding eye contact with him. 

That was fine with Griffin. Really the less he had to talk to people right now the better. He was just in the process of figuring out how much to tip for two glasses of water and how best to subtly exit the building when a handsome stranger sits down across from him. Griffin opens his mouth to say something and then, realizing he is not the one out of line here, shuts it. 

The man across from Griffin pushes his hair out of his face and says, “Listen I know this is probably not normal, and feel free to tell me to fuck off at any time, but you’ve been sitting here for nearly as long as I have, and it’s pretty clear we were both—“ he cuts himself off and frowns, “At least I’m pretty sure we both just got stood up, so maybe we could, I don’t know, pretend we somehow didn’t see each other until now, or—“ 

Griffin stares the man across from him blankly as he continues, not sure what to make of this offer. On one hand, it would seem pretty dumb of them to have not seen each other for so long. On the other hand he wouldn’t have to sulk out of the restaurant pretending that the waitstaff weren’t pretending he hadn’t just got stood up. 

The man continues, “


	2. e3 bullshit

You arrive at the house sweaty and tired. You took several connecting flights and didn’t check a bag, so you had to heave your overstuffed carry on through several airports. You really want a sit and a drink.

You’re far from the first to arrive, but as late as it is, the house is quiet. You don’t mid much; the rest of the polygon squad will be up to meet you in the morning. You catch another whiff of your own rank, airplane smell. Thankfully by then, you’ll have showered. 

You pass through the entrance room carefully. You edge yourself around a table and go to a great length not to let your bag crash into it. You have the vague inclination that this would be easier if you were functionally awake. 

You’re about to go up the stairs when you notice light spilling from the living room. You figure you can pop your head in, let the bags under your eyes do most of the talking, and then absolutely pass out on the bed you can hear singing your name. 

The overhead lights in the living room are off, but keeping with the theme of the quiet, sleepy house, the room is lit by a single lamp giving off a warm, rosy light. The house must not have gotten much use recently because you can see some dust motes drift through the glow. You’re about to open your mouth and say something dumb about it when you get a decent look at the person stretched across the couch in front of you.

It’s Nick and he’s uncharacteristically still. His back is to you, but the rise and fall of his chest suggest a peaceful slumber. He’s wrapped in a blanket and you can tell he’s been here a while. There’s a book within reach, something wordy and pretentious, but closer to the sleeping Nicolas is his phone. You bet if you unlocked it, twitter would open up. You smile where he can’t see you. 

A part of your brain that you would rather not acknowledge suggests that he fell asleep waiting for you, and swayed as you are by exhaustion, you do not quiet it.

You are struck by the need to be closer to him, to talk to him, to interact with him in any way. You drop your bag to the floor

**Author's Note:**

> i know there are a couple more things written in notebooks around my room, but hell if i'm gonna waste the time typing them up


End file.
